


867-5309

by AntiCholia



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M, adjusted ages a bit, sue me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-06-09 08:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15263328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntiCholia/pseuds/AntiCholia
Summary: Jongin gets spoiled by Yixing's mom at a barbeque and then gets a weird text from a stranger. He decides to text back.





	1. Get Your Number

"Could you eat less loudly?" 

Jongin shoves his foot into Junmyeon's face and receives an unsophisticated screech in return. The barefooted assailant continues to munch on the sandwich. The crunchy part comes from the lettuce, and is amplified by the mushy sounds of Jongin's open mouthed chewing. Junmyeon shoves the foot away and propels a fancy couch cushion towards his younger brother's face. "You're such a pig." He accuses, and only receives a fitting snort to the nickname. "Hurry up and finish your food, we were supposed to be at Yixing's by six. It's eight, Jongin.  _Eight._ " 

It doesn't take much longer for Jongin to finish his sandwich, but he doesn't feel like going to Yixing's. For some reason, Yixing's mother had grown very fond of him after only seeing him once. Just once had been enough to nag her son Yixing about seeing her son's friend's younger brother again in as little time as possible. And now Jongin is the guest of honor at her next barbeque. Which they should be present at. Should have been. Two hours ago. The problem is that Jongin is lazy, and despite being very fond of Yixing and his adoring mom, he also doesn't like being touched. Unfortunately, the old lady is very fond of hugging him and touching his hair and head in an affectionate manner that makes Jongin feel five rather than his adult age of twenty-four. Twenty-four. Even if he is TWENTY-FOUR, he is going to feel five again soon. Especially now his sandwich is done and he drags a pair of shoes on his bare feet and grunts at Junmyeon who's already up on his feet again and running to the door to get the car running. 

The car ride takes approximately one hour, which is an hour of Jongin holding potted orchid flowers on his lap because his older brother had insisted that they would be ruined if they were left on the back seat. (Honestly, in Jongin's humble but genius opinion, he'd thought the idea of putting seatbelts on the plants was a good idea. Yet Junmyeon's rolling eyes seemed to firmly disagree with his intelligent findings.) Yet they made it to Icheon safely. As safely as one would be able to call it. Jongin's post-sandwich burp had been rather vile and hindering to Junmyeon's otherwise expert driving. There's a parking spot in front of their destination, and when the car halts, Jongin groans softly. 

It's time to be treated like a five year old. 

Behind the door they wait in front of he hears yelling. They're not the only guests. Faintly, he can distinguish Yixing's accent and Jongdae's screechy voice yelling back and forth. There's some rumbling and then the red lacquered door opens to reveal Yixing's fresh face. The dude is really into skincare, Jongin notes mentally. Pores? Nonexistent. "Finally!" The son of the homeowner exclaims, hands thrown into the air to pull Junmyeon into a hug. "You took so long! I could barely hold Jongdae off the crab meat. People have started eating but there's plenty left. We already cracked open the shell. Come in, come in." He ushers the fraternal guests inside and Jongin waddles with two orchid flowers in his hands towards the living room. Like her son, Yixing's mother stands with arms spread wide to pull Jongin into a hug. "Oh, little bear! You didn't have to! Thank you!" Her accent is thicker than Yixing's for sure, but she does speak Korean.  _Little bear._ Jongin nearly snorts again at the nickname and he smiles.

"It was no problem. We know you like them so my brother and I--" 

"Yes, thank you for the flowers!"

"My  _brother and I_ bought the flowers  _together_ because Yixing told us you like them."

The aged lady ceremoniously points to the table other orchid flowers await them (all very well taken care of, Jongin notices), and Jongin carefully puts the flowers down besides their kin and carefully removes the wrapping. Among the other colors, their gifts of purple and white seem to fit right in. 

"Are you hungry?"

"I--"

"Sit down, I will bring you food."

Without an opportunity to speak, or to object to having his face stuffed because he already ate (a delicious sandwich), he is guided outside towards the garden, where the rest of the visitors await them and he gets placed on the most comfy looking seat. (He briefly hears Jongdae whine that it's  _his_ seat, only to hear muffled sounds of rice being stuffed into his mouth hole by a Yixing who has frankly had  _enough_ of hearing Jongdae speak in such a whiny matter for over two hours.) To his left, Junmyeon's friend Sehun is already nagging for his brother's attention--effectively. To his right, a quiet guy named Kyungsoo he vaguely knows from mentions in Junmyeon's loud phone calls with Sehun, a rather young looking but equally manly looking man named Minseok, and a big eared guy named Baekhyun (Jongin can only remember his name when his brain doesn't automatically label the dude Dumbo) sit together eating crab meat along with white rice. 

"Little bear, here!"

Snapping out of focusing on others who barely pay him any mind, Yixing's very doting mother places a very full plate in front of him. Marinated chicken made on the barbeque. Just for him, because he had mentioned not liking seafood. He can swear for a second he hears Yixing mutter she doesn't even do that for her own son. Nodding his head politely and muttering a quiet yet polite "thank you very much", he begins to eat.

 

* * *

 

He had eaten three plates of chicken, a plate of white rice, three chocopies, one ice cream and drank two glasses of homemade iced tea before Yixing's mom left him alone and let him rest from eating. During the face stuffing marathon, he had learned a bit more about Junmyeon and Yixing's friends. Sehun sometimes feels jealous of anyone who comes too close to his brother (including Jongin), Kyungsoo's hobby is fencing, Baekhyun once won a hotdog eating contest ("it's a euphemism for dick sucking contest" Jongdae had added loudly, only to be smacked by Yixing for using foul language in hearing distance of his mother), Minseok really liked gadgets and worked in the IT sector. Jongdae had been over with Yixing at the Kim house a couple of times, and happened to be the loudest. Playing video games wasn't something Jongin thought fit his brother very much, but after the trio's LAN parties with plenty of groaning and yelling over Call Of Duty games, he'd just accepted the fact Junmyeon was a nerdy loser who liked to yell at his opponents that their moms are gay over his mic into the voice chat for killing him in-game. 

There's a cozy fire burning in the outdoor fireplace and Jongin is sitting next to Sehun and Junmyeon--who are busy with each other discussing work--when his phone buzzes. See, the thing is, Jongin rarely gets text messages. He has acquaintances but no friends. The only one texting him on a regular basis are Junmyeon, their mother, and his cellphone provider indicating he's almost past his data limit again. But none of them are texting him. It's an unsaved number. Jongin squints, and doesn't recognize it after contemplating over it a few seconds. 

He decides to open the message. 

 **[ Received | 21:35 ]** Ernie? Bert here. 

He blinks once, then twice, and then begins to smile. Sesame Street references? Rad. His fingers are already typing a reply before he has even a second to think about it. 

 **[ Sent | 21:35 ]** This is Big Bird, actually.

Satisfied with himself, he wants to put his phone back into his pockets, but the person is online, has already seen his response, and is busy typing up a new one. 

 **[ Received | 21:36 ]** lol Really though, Jinki? Chanyeol here. :)

Chanyeol isn't a name that sounds familiar, and Jongin is most certain his name is definitely  _not_ Jinki. He's tempted to open his mouth and ask Junmyeon if he knows a Chanyeol, but Junmyeon's name isn't Jinki either and the chance that he knows a guy who randomly got Jongin's number by accident is slim to none. 

 **[ Sent | 21:36 ]** Sorry to disappoint. I'm not Jinki. 

 **[ Received | 31:37 ]** Are you anyone from Vivi Group? 

 **[ Sent | 21:37 ]** Unless that's the name for a cute French girl, no.

That has to be the end of that. Who sticks around after confirmation that they have the wrong number? No one, that's who. No one, absolute no one--

His phone vibrates.

 **[ Received | 21:38 ]** So you're a cute french girl, huh? Interesting. What's your name? Vivienne Groupé? Sounds French enough to me.   
**[ Received | 21:38 ]** Your korean is pretty fluent for a chic french girl, though. Hmmmmmmmm. 

Jongin smiles only when he feels it's necessary. Usually, he's too lazy and not impressed enough by much to smile and mean it too. But he's smiling. Okay, there's a chance he might be fooling around with the Chanyeol guy, and possibly dipping his feet into catfishing waters, but is that really his fault? Is it really? He hadn't expected the guy to actually reply to him, and here he sounds pretty hopeful that Jongin is a cute foreign girl. (He is cute--humble opinion--but he is not a girl.) Despite being at a barbeque and being exhausted from eating and forced socializing, he feels a tiny glimmer in amusement in his newfound entertainment. Plus, he doesn't have anything better to do than listen to Sehun and Junmyeon semi-bickering-definitely-lowkey-flirting-it's-gross. 

 **[ Sent | 21:40 ]** I've dated a lot of Korean men, you know. Many boyfriends. French girls are popular, apparently. Then again, I am very pretty.  
**[ Sent | 21:40 ]** Naturally, my Korean became very good with all that hard and heavy private tutoring I had. 

He has to press his lips together to suppress his smile. He doesn't need to be questioned by his brother and his brother's boo in the making. Still, he feels entirely too tempted to laugh at the suggestive tone his text received. If the guy is desparate, he will fall for it. And ultimately, Jongin knows it will make him laugh. He shouldn't be messing with these things. The guy could be a serial killer or stalker of some sort, but this is the most interesting thing that has happened in his life (besides getting his brother's friend's mom oddly endeared with him). He's excited and he's eager for a reply. He might be joking around with the guy, but it's something to do. At least there's that. Or at least, that's his rationalization of replying to an unknown number.

 **[ Received | 21:45 ]** Wow, a dangerous girl, huh? You must be very hot to have trapped so many men.  
**[ Received | 21:45 ]** I'd fall for you too, but there's a possibility you're either a dude, more specifically you are actually Jinki and you're totally laughing at me right now.  
**[ Received | 21:45 ]** And if I fell for that, that would make me the  dumbass of the office. 

 The suspicion makes him grin. He's close to laughter, and by now he can spot from the corner of his eye how his brother shoots him odd looks for looking at his phone that way. The chances of his mother sending him anything funny are slim, and their dad with his corny jokes receive even less of a chance of gaining such a reaction. He knows Junmyeon knows that he isn't texting with his parents. For once, the younger of the two doesn't care. His fingers type a response, and for a second he worries he's replying too quickly, too eagerly, but he doesn't care. There's liberty in texting with a stranger. If it doesn't work out and gets awkward before Jongin can have his fun, Chanyeol doesn't know his name anyway. And so far, he hasn't asked him for it either. 

 **[ Sent | 21:45 ]** See, there's the risk.  
**[ Sent | 21:45 ]** I could either be a cute girl.  
**[ Sent | 21:45 ]** Or I could have a 20 inch dong. 

 **[ Received | 21:46 ]**... Both?

The response is so simple, yet stupid, that it causes Jongin to laugh. Finally, he releases how amused he had been in audible fashion and tugs the collar of his shirt up to cover his nose. His feet pull up on the garden seat, and he stifles his giggles of amusement. His toes wrinkle and he makes himself small.

"What?" Junmyeon's voice asks. Looking up, he spots his brother, and the taller twink attached to his brother looking at him suspiciously.

"What?" He responds flatly.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing!" 

For a second he feels tension and curiosity in the air, but it dissipates when Junmyeon finally decides to shrug it off and leave his younger brother to his business. Chanyeol is starting to feel like a secret. A pleasant secret. One that makes him laugh and makes him feel happy despite having felt uncomfortable when he had arrived at Yixing's mom's house. Despite being surrounded by people he doesn't know very well. He's a homebird, doesn't like leaving his room much, and sometimes even feels uncomfortable when he has to leave the familiar surroundings of his home. A distraction like this makes him feel lighter. And the hand not occupied with his phone rubs over his bare feet. The fire makes them warm up a bit, and he's cozy in his curled up position on the garden sofa. He bites at his lip a bit and thinks it over before his fingers begin to type again. 

 **[ Sent | 21:50 ]** I have to admit that made me laugh. Thanks to you I got odd looks.   
**[ Sent | 21:50 ]** can't believe you cracked the code.   
**[ Sent | 21:50 ]** Please accept my dong :( and my boobies :(

 **[ Received | 21:59 ]** I mean we might have to find a way to get such a huge thing out of the way when we get down to it.  
**[ Received | 22:00 ]** Because I'd definitely do you.  
**[ Received | 22:00 ]** But I think your massive dong would have you doing a permanent push up even if you laid face down on the bed.

There's something about the reply that makes him feel both flustered and amused. His stomach feels a little bit tight and warm--it isn't because of the fireplace--and his teeth sink into his bottom lip which he wouldn't even have noticed if he also hadn't simultaneously tried to bite at his nails. Okay. So it's definitely taken a sexual turn. Something about the mix of sex and humor makes him feel eager to respond. Frankly, he doesn't have a lot of experience. Or any at all, really. But dipping his feet in territories like this doesn't feel wrong. It feels like a golden opportunity he would be stupid for letting pass if he didn't immediately seize it. The stupid grin on his face hasn't left either. Stretching his long legs, Jongin clears his throat as he shoves his feet in slippers and stands from his seat, walking to a less crowded part of the backyard. Standing by the fence, he types a reply that causes a fluttering of a different kind than entertainment. 

 **[ Sent | 22:03 ]** Oh yeah? Sounds like you like quite the excercise. But then again, I could be Jinki. And I could be sending screenshots to the entire company right now. Hmmm. Risks, risks.

 **[ Received | 22:06 ]** Nah, you aren't Jinki.  
**[ Received | 22:06 ]** I'm going to guess you're a girl. And you like them big.

 **[ Sent | 22:07]** What makes you think I like it big?

 **[ Received | 22:07 ]** You mentioned having 20 inches.   
**[ Received | 22:08 ]** People mention what they want  


**[ Sent | 22:10 ]** How big is yours, then?

 **[ Received | 22:15 ]** Come find out, princess.

Besides being mistaken for a girl, the invitation feels directly pointed at him. Sure, he might be catfishing the guy a tiny bit, but he hasn't actually said he was a girl. He feels the need to cough again. His cheeks feel warm, and he averts his gaze from his phone as if Chanyeol would magically be able to see him through it if he maintained his gaze on the screen of the device. He holds his phone tight, brings his other hand habitually to his lips and begins to bite at the nails of his index and middle finger interchangingly. Frankly, Jongin hadn't had much of a sexual appetite in his life. Well, his libido wasn't aimed as much at other people as it had been towards porn. Masturbation had been enough to keep his needs sated. Yet, he felt the glimmering of curiosity for the first time in his life at the age of twenty-four. At a barbeque. Instead of socializing like any other normal human being would do, he's secluding himself and texting (leaning towards sexting) with a stranger.  _A stranger._ His rationale is waking up and he begins to have doubts. But his doubts don't get an opportunity to speak rational reason into his brain. His curiosity is a violent wave of greed and the sparkling chance to discover more. Even if he is fooling a man into thinking he is a girl. (Though he hasn't confirmed it either, to be fair.)

Contemplating on what to say next, he finally decides that he needs a better picture. He needs to know who Chanyeol really is. Who he is as a person, what he does as a job, what he looks like. His curiosity is begging him to ask for more and he offers absolutely no resistance to the feeling. He thrives in it. He moves with it. His fingers begin to type again.

 **[ Sent | 22:21 ]** How old are you?

 **[ Received | 22:22 ]** 28\. How about you?

 **[ Sent | 22:24 ]** Guess.

 **[ Received | 22:24 ]** Mysterious lady, huh? 25?

 **[ Sent | 22:25 ]** Close.

 **[ Received | 22:26 ]**  15? 

Snorting at the response, he rolls his eyes. Certainly, even for a stranger, the man has wit and knows how to reply to Jongin's beating around the bush. So far, no matter what Jongin had thrown his way, Chanyeol had caught it and tossed it right back. Speaking to him is easy. 

 **[ Sent | 22:27 ]** Exactly, wow.

The tone of his text certainly weighs with sarcasm. He feels on a wavelength with Chanyeol. As if he knows the guy. As if they're familiar in the way of their thought.

Fifteen minutes pass before Jongin starts to doubt that logic. Was it too crude? It is a text. Verbal tones are absent, and what if he took it seriously? Still, it doesn't make sense. Surely Chanyeol knows that "close" isn't a ten year difference. Surely that has to be clear.  _Surely_. Maybe not. Maybe not to Chanyeol. Maybe the man is freaked out about the thought of having sent suggestive texts to someone he had assumed to being an adult but turned out to be a teen. The thought makes Jongin feel uncomfortable too. If he had been in the other's position, he would have felt that way. Or would he have joked it off? For a quick thinker, his brain is fuzzy and he can't think clearly. 

An hour passes before he starts to worry that Chanyeol won't want to talk to him again. He has taken a seat next to the others but he's barely smiling any longer. His sour mood is pretty evident, even though he tries his best to conceal it to his best ability. He can't stop thinking about it. Even when Baekhyun tries to talk to him, he's absentminded. Even if he is surrounded with company, he's thinking of the contact of a stranger he wants more than what he currently has. Part of him hates himself for it. It's pretty rude. The people surrounding him have never been rude to him (except Sehun, when Junmyeon paid him some attention). 

Another hour passes and some have left. Now he's left talking to Minseok. It does help. Minseok's voice is nice. He's kind, and seems to be very passionate about technology. They have similar interests. Nintendo games. They discuss Legend of Zelda lore ("Nerds!" Jongdae yells. Minseok gives him a look and manages to shut the tipsy loud mouth up with it), how Nintendo revolutionized gaming, and how Jongin misses playing Mario Party. In the back of his mind, he's still anxiously worrying about his phone. He'd definitely left it on vibrate, not silent, right? Right. After checking a couple of times, he finally shoves his phone in his pocket and forces himself to focus on Minseok. Kind, friendly Minseok. 

He doesn't even know Chanyeol, anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

By the end of the night Junmyeon had firmly decided they were staying over. He had drank, and Jongin did not have a driving license. Yixing's mom had made him tea and prepared a bed for him for sleeping. Yixing and Junmyeon had to share a bed, and Yixing's mother rests in her own bedroom. Multiple times, she'd asked if Jongin wouldn't rather sleep on a bed, but he had repeatedly reassured her. He can't sleep next to someone else anyway--like that one time Junmyeon and he had to share a bed during a stayover at their grandma's and he'd spent the entire night staring wide eyed at the ceiling while Junmyeon had snoozed comfortably beside him. His makeshift bed is next to an electricity socket, and he plugs the charger in and connects his phone. 

After saying goodnight to everyone, and checking his phone a final time, he goes to sleep with the faint hope that when he wakes up, Chanyeol will have texted him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know. Enjoy. I'll update this when l'inspiration strikes. Might become adult rating? I don't know. This is my first fic on AO3. Find me on **[twitter](http://twitter.com/anticholia)**.


	2. You Have One New Message

Waking up is something Jongin has never been good at. The moment his eyes close, they are pretty much glued shut. No atomic bomb or brutal murder would be able to wake him. However, that morning he finds out that once someone is  _staring_ at him, his eyelids manage to separate just enough to create blurry vision of a person standing over his mattress placed on the floor. His mind, in its utmost drowsy and sleep-infused state, somehow achieves understanding that it's Yixing's mother dotingly staring at his sleeping form. With a soft, sleepy groan, he just shuts his eyes again and falls back asleep. Why she is awake so early in the morning, he doesn't understand, but he isn't going to question anything. The second time he wakes up, he sees someone else staring at him. It's Yixing for some reason. He hears a language he doesn't understand--Chinese--and dozes off again afterwards. Despite being woken up several times, when Junmyeon finally shakes him to wake him up, he feels oddly refreshed and well rested. "You shouldn't sleep so much." His elder brother nags him. "It's impolite. They have been putting off breakfast because they wanted to let you sleep but didn't want to eat without you."

"What time is it?"

"It's one in the afternoon, idiot."

So basically, Jongin and his sleeping routine of being semi-comatose had left the elderly lady unfed because her heart had been too fond of him to wake him up and simultaneously too considerate to eat without him. Needless to say, it put everything in motion and within half an hour, the group of four ate lunch together around the dining table. Yixing had helped set the table. Junmyeon had helped set the table. But when Jongin rise to do the same, the warm hands of the woman's palms had rested on his shoulder and told him to sit. "You sit down, little bear. It's okay." (Of course Jongin had seen how Yixing had stared at him with an open mouth of shock and a look of pure offense on his features. The mama's boy probably felt a bit of jealousy of having his mother treat someone else so well.) He still felt the food from last night in his stomach, but breakfast was light and he closed it off with tea.

"Little bear." The woman kindly called. Jongin turned his head to look at her. "I have a favor to ask of you." She continued. The first time to actually receive any type of chore to do, he sat up. For all the woman had done for him in such a short amount of time and had spoiled him so much with attention, it was the least he could do. "I have yard, yes? But also in the front. In the back, I can sit on chair and snip weeds away. In the front lawn is very small, yes? Chair doesn't fit. I can't pluck weeds. Would you pluck weeds for me? Flowers have to grow, but weeds everywhere." The woman wanted him to clean out the yard of weeds. A small task, yet the tone of her voice felt so careful about asking him such a thing. Even with context, even without an explanation, his answer would have been the same. "Of course, mama." He answered with a smile. She returned it.

With gloves on his hands, and slippers on his shoes, he just went outside with his pyjamas on (Yixing's mother had bought them for her son, who couldn't appreciate them--but Jongin certainly could) and began to pluck the unwanted greenery out of the ground. The sun did shine on him directly, and it was particularly hot. Still, he enjoyed it. Even with sweat dripping down his forehead and his fingers aching from battling it out with roots that definitely wanted to stay in place and put up a fight to not be pulled out, he enjoyed what he had to do as a chore (plus, it would give the other two young men reason to shut up about Jongin being spoiled by miss Zhang). Neighbors walked by, and Jongin greeted them kindly whenever they looked at him, though he couldn't appreciate the curious looks very much. The sight wasn't worth the attention in his opinion. Or maybe it was the Minion themed nightwear that caught their eye. With two trash bags filled with weeds, he was finally done and walked towards the garbage containers to dump the greenery in the big bin. "Excuse me." He said, feet hurrying when he noticed a male figure holding the container open. "Please wait." And the figure kindly waited. 

It was a fairly young man, taller than himself (which was quite frankly shocking since Jongin was pretty tall himself), with a polite personality. Holding the container open for Jongin, it gave the Minion pyjama clad boy the chance to throw everything away at once. And he did.

"Thanks." Jongin said with a grin, taking off the gardening gloves.

"Minions, huh? Nice." He received as a reply. Instead of gratitude he felt embarrassment bubble in his gut. At least the man didn't just stare like the rest of the neighbors, but it didn't change the fact that it remained embarrassing. His nose scrunched up and he gave the stranger a groan.

"Please don't start. I like them, okay? I said it. I like the Minions." 

The man laughed in a light hearted manner, and Jongin felt himself grin once more. 

"I'm Yifan." The guy introduces himself. "You came from miss Zhang's place, right?" The question seemed rather abrupt, but Jongin figured the young man and the elderly woman were neighbors. 

"Yeah?" He replied with some uncertainty. 

"Would you mind telling her that I'm sorry for not being able to drop by yesterday?" -- Jongin nodded at the question. "You still haven't told me your name."

"It's Jongin." 

"Thank you, Jongin." 

Smiling, thankful it wasn't much of an awkward meeting, Jongin bowed his head and thanked Yifan in return for holding the container open for him. He bid his goodbye and turned around to return to the Zhang home. 

 

* * *

  

Mentioning Yifan had brought the woman in wonderful spirits, and with her front lawn also looking much better, she seemed unbreakable at the moment. Her smile lines showed the entire time and her happiness showed in the way she treated Jongin with lemonade and ice cream for his hard work after he took a shower, and began to cook a meal for the neighbor Jongin had met a bit ago. Only around about three in the afternoon did he have time to pick up his phone and look at it. He had spent the entire day without thinking of Chanyeol, but he couldn't help his curiosity. He opened the app and stared at the stranger's messages. The status of the man read on the top.  _Online_. Jongin stared at it. If he saw Chanyeol as online then that meant that Chanyeol saw the same for him and he held his breath.  _Online_ changes to  _Typing..._ and Jongin's heart skips a beat. He stares at his screen, brings his phone right up to his nose, almost. Seconds pass. He waits, licks over his lips and swallows. Really, he shouldn't be anticipating a reply this much. It comes off desperate. If Junmyeon knew, he'd get bullied for sure.  _Typing..._ changes back to  _Online_. Partially in disbelief, partially in disappointment, his phone drops to his chest as he lies flat on the couch, legs dangling over the arm rest. It's annoying, really. Annoying and frustrating that he cares this much, but he had fun last night and he wants to feel that excitement again. Sure, he'd been on the track of catfishing a dude he didn't even know, but he hadn't cared much. 

Surely, one more message couldn't hurt? Double texting isn't a desperation thing, it's just  _texting_. There's nothing wrong with texting. He can text. It's not like he knows the guy personally or that the guy even knows his name. One more message can't hurt.

**[ Sent | 15:12 ]** What? You don't like fresh juice? 

He stares at his screen again. "Come on.." He mutters to himself. Junmyeon and Yixing are too busy talking to each other and watching television to notice Jongin anyway. He almost  **gasps** when he sees  _Typing..._ appear again. 

**[ Received | 15:12 ]** Fresh? lol that's not even ripe.  
**[ Received | 15:12 ]**  Though something tells me you're closer to aged wine than barely ripe fruit.   
**[ Received | 15:13 ]** For all I know you could be a dirty old man wanking it to the idea of scoring a young hot guy like myself. 

Jongin snorts. His legs swing back and forth slowly and he grins up at his phone as he types. Relief floods his chest and he feels good about double texting. Maybe the guy really hadn't known if it had been a joke. It's as if all the joking had returned full force after he'd made it clear he was joking.

**[ Sent | 15:14 ]** Ew, don't be gross. I bet you aren't even hot. 

Shameless baiting for a possible picture? Maybe.

**[ Sent | 15:14 ]** I'm just a couple of years younger than you, stupid. I'm 24. 

This is the first time he's been honest with Chanyeol regarding any type of information regarding himself and it feels exciting again. In habit, he lifts his hand to his mouth and begins to habitually chew at the nail of his pinky finger. They're both still online, but it doesn't feel awkward. Though he feels a bubbling in his gut, a giddiness he hadn't experienced before. It makes everything that much more fresh and tempting. 

**[ Received | 15:16 ]** What a coincidence. 24 happens to be where I draw the line.   
**[ Received | 15:17 ]** Brat.

The second text causes Jongin to laugh out loud. The obnoxious sound also happens to be the one thing to burst his privacy bubble. The needle in this case is Junmyeon's stare. "Who are you texting?" He asks. Though Junmyeon can be a total dickwad and a half, Jongin is also well aware all of it comes from a place of love. His brother has always been protective. Extroverted, well controlled Junmyeon (except when he plays Call of Duty) always kept looking after introverted, quiet Jongin. But Jongin didn't want Junmyeon's overprotectiveness now. It can be a bother sometimes, but he really doesn't want it this time. "No one." He replies. His lie comes off as believable as the one time Jongdae claimed he had a girlfriend (he hadn't; anime girlfriends don't count). 

**[ Sent | 15:18 ]** Calling girls a brat doesn't make them attracted to you, you know? So rude. Hmph.

**[ Received | 15:18 ]** Bet you'd like it if I called you brat and then bent you over my knee and spanked your cute little ass, though. 

It's the second time Jongin feels his stomach grow fuzzy and he clears his throat and then faux-coughs twice to make it seem like he had an itchy throat rather than his dick growing semi-hard from reading a text.

**[** **Sent | 15:18 ]** My dick would be in the way, remember? Would press up against your thigh. 

Subtly, he gauges the reaction of the other. Would it really bother Chanyeol if he knew Jongin actually is, in fact, a male? Part of him knows that he shouldn't care in the first place, but he knows he cares. He cares a bit too much. He hates himself for it. Chanyeol is too charming. 

**[ Received | 15:19 ]** As long as it ain't bigger than mine, baby girl. ㅋㅋㅋ

**[ Sent | 15:20 ]** Peeeeeeeeeeervert.

**[ Received | 15:22 ]** Call me a pervert in a whiny voice when I press my fingers inside your cute little pussy, baby.   
**[ Received | 15:22 ]** ㅡㅅㅇ ♥ ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Jongin feels his thighs press together, and subtly as he can, he curls up and slowly turns to his side to face the back of the couch. His face feels hot. His dick twitches and he feels the embarrassing need to whine. Though he does stay quiet, the mental image is stuck inside of his head. Chanyeol is unlocking his sexual desire through texts and it's pretty stupid. Jerking off had been more than enough in the past. Other people seemed like too much of a hassle, and Jongin liked being by himself. But this time, oh this time, he began to understand what was so alluring about desiring someone else in such a lustful way. He'd had crushes before, hell he'd even had a girlfriend when he was fifteen, but he'd never let it stray too far or felt the need to do anything physically intimate. And here he was, imagining a pair of fingers slipping inside of him and bringing him to climax. 

Getting his dick hard over a stranger while he's visiting someone. What a lovely way to spend a Sunday.

**[ Sent | 15:26 ]** Ii thinmk I might actually ha te you.

**[ Received | 15:27 ]** ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ  
**[ Received | 15:27 ]** Did you picture it, princess? The way you're spelling makes me think you're getting a bit busy doing something else over there.

He could cry. Truly, he could. How did it turn out to be this way? Why does a stranger have so much power over him? Thinking he's a girl, even. It's the worst. The catfishing was supposed to be a stupid joke, yet he's found himself repeatedly wanting the man's approval. Would he still talk to him this way if he knew he was a guy? Of course he hopes so, but the chances are slim. What are the chances of a guy who'd managed to catch his attention when others couldn't being interested in him as well? Slim. Very slim. 

**[ Sent | 15:30 ]** No way. You're gross and ugly. 

The insults are thoughtless, mindless, and without intention. 

He receives a  _picture_ in return. Chanyeol, Jongin comes to find out after the photo has downloaded on his screen, is insanely attractive. In the picture, his hair is combed back, and he's wearing a dress shirt, rolled up sleeves and loose top buttons. He's holding a bottle of beer to his lips and the look in his eyes exudes nothing but unbridled confidence. His hands are big. Even the slightly funnily pointed ears don't manage to kill the boner he has for this guy. 

**[ Received |** **15:32 ]** Your turn, princess.

Jongin holds his breath. Rising from the couch, he puts slippers on his feet and walks out of the back to enter the backyard. With total privacy, he has enough room to think in proper silence. Though he hears voices nagging in his head, he knows he's already made his decision. Revealing himself would be the ultimate risk. Either Chanyeol stops talking to him altogether, suddenly starts acting completely different, or he's okay with it. Out of the three possibilities, the last one seems very outnumbered. 

Holding his breath, managing to just smile a tiny bit without it seeming forced, he aims the front camera at himself and takes a picture.

He hits send.

No going back any longer. 

He sees a mark near his sent picture indicating it's been seen. 

He sees Chanyeol's  _Online_ turn into  _Last online at 15:36_. 

 

* * *

 

He's quiet the rest of the day. To Yixing and his mother, and to Junmyeon this is something standard. Jongin isn't worried anyone will clock his mood, as bad as he feels. It feels shitty that it's probably going to be the last time he's heard of Chanyeol. His fun is over, the clock has struck midnight, the show has come to its conclusion. It's over. Like a child, he finds it difficult to accept that something he wanted couldn't happen, but he can't do anything about it except sulk in his silence. The rest of the day goes by quietly, and when it's time to go home, they leave with a bag filled with containers full of food. Miss Zhang hugs him tightly and he hugs her in return. Yixing gives him a friendly smack on the shoulder. After waving their final goodbyes out of the car window, they head back to Seoul and to their home. 

It kind of feels like Jongin is leaving Chanyeol behind in Icheon as well.

He's not sure if he's happy or sad about that. 

That night, he washes the Minion pyjamas Yixing's mother had given him as an extra parting gift and swears he'll wear it tomorrow. Briefly, he feels better when he thinks about Yifan and how his moment of embarrassment seemed much funnier in retrospect. It's a comforting thought from the humiliation of being ignored after showing his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh. Oh boy. **[Twitter](https://twitter.com/anticholia)**.


	3. Hot Line Bling

It’s Tuesday at about two in the afternoon when Jongin finally wakes up. When his face finally appears in front of his family, his mother sighs and tells him there’s food waiting. Both him and Junmyeon still live at home. But why wouldn’t they? Even if Junmyeon has a stable job and has enough income to live on his own, living with parents is convenient. It gives him the opportunity to save up on longer term to plan ahead for his future. His own house, his own car, he’d also planned to buy plots of land. Junmyeon had his future all planned out. 

Jongin, on the other hand, did not have a job. Nor did he have a future vision. All he had was a university diploma with average grades that did not impress any employers. “You could become a stripper.” Junmyeon had said one day, grinning from ear to ear, only to be hit with a towel by their mother. “Don’t speak such nonsense!” She’d berated her oldest son. Jongin, however, had just joined in and asked their mother, “What? You don’t think I’m pretty enough?” His mother had yanked at his ear at the witty reply and he’d whimpered and whined for five minutes straight from the lasting pain. It was worth it. Him and Junmyeon had laughed about it plenty. 

In the past two days, checking his phone had developed into a habit. From the moment he had sent Chanyeol the picture, there had been no response. The thought of sending another double text crossed his mind, but desperation had a face and if he didn’t watch it, it would look a lot like his own. Still, he hoped. He hoped even as he dragged on clothes, and he still hoped as he shoved his phone in his pocket and slipped his shoes on like they were slippers and went outside. 

The sun wasn’t as hot at around three-thirty. Frankly, Jongin did not enjoy heat very much. Unlike his older brother, who barely broke a sweat over anything, Jongin felt his body grow clammy quite rapidly. It was annoying. Plus, he didn’t really like going outside. Especially not for the purpose of finding a job. He’d just get rejected anyway. He could see his future now. Freeloading off Junmyeon who would just groan and tell him to get a job and Jongin would make a dress out of all the applications he’d been rejected for. That would shut him up. (Though remaining jobless was quite depressing and really, he liked being busy to an extent. Anything would do to at least keep himself busy until he got a job worth mentioning to friends and family.) 

The first stop is a lunchroom. The manager gives him a form to fill in and tells him to come back after he’s filled it in and put his picture on it. It seems a bit silly to have to fill out forms for a waiting job, but who would Jongin be to know? 

The second stop is a fast food company. They do not need delivery personnel. Nor do they need cooking staff. He Is sent away with immediate disappointment and semi-relief that he won’t be stuck on a scooter all day. 

The third stop is a law firm. He applies for a job as administration worker. Despite not looking his best, he is taken in for an interview. Having a brother working for another law firm has seemed to draw plenty of chances at the bureau. When he exits, he’s told he’ll hear from them by the end of the week. 

Three interviews are exhausting. Jongin feels quite exhausted from being rejected that many times. And even though the last firm actually agreed to interview him, and the interview didn’t go in a disastrous manner, being rejected after having a positive mindset about his chances has happened before. After being disappointed quite a couple of times it’s no use getting his hopes up when there isn’t a guarantee. With a lazy stretch of his back, he grunts and groans. Maybe he’ll go home now. Play a few games. Sleep until the next day, well into the afternoon. Maybe Chanyeol will finally--

He shrieks when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, did I startle you?”

When he turns around, he comes face to face with Minseok’s kind face. 

“What-- What are you doing here, hyung?” 

“I work near here. I saw you just... Standing here. Are you okay? You seemed deep in thought.” 

Getting caught staring ahead of him like some sort of dysfunctional zombie? Perfect. Not embarrassing at all, really. 

“Yeah, I... uh... I was job hunting today and I got really tired, so I guess I just zoned out.” Jongin admits truthfully. He is quite tired, and he feels the heavy need to nap. Minseok’s kind face, and kind eyes, and cute face smile at him and the man places a hand on the small of his back.

“How about dinner? I think you earned a good meal after trying so hard today.”

Partially relieved, Jongin sighs and bows his head. “Thank you."

 

* * *

 

With a fat and juicy cheeseburger served in front of him along with homemade curly fries, Jongin grins as bites at the straw of his milkshake. The way to his heart? Possibly this. Except he’s here with his brother’s friend and that’s just weird, maybe. They did have a nice conversation at the barbeque. 

“You know, I heard miss Zhang asked about you. Yixing said so in the group chat.”

“What group chat?”

“Oh, never mind. Anyway, she seems very fond of you. I would be careful though. Yixing is quite fond of her and he gets jealous easily. I’ve known him since we were just kids, and he almost threw his cousin from the top of the stairs because his mother was doting on him too much.”

“That’s not very reassuring, you know? I don’t even know what I did.”

“You’re just cute.” Jongin feels his cheeks heat up. “You have a child like charm about you. Innocent, maybe? You seem very shy and aloof at the same time. It draws protective people in.” Okay, so it wasn’t a compliment as much as it was an analysis.

“I guess so. I don’t need protection though. I can take care of myself.”

With a chuckle, Minseok rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up and shifts his seat forward closer to the table to begin eating. He takes a fry and puts it in his mouth, chewing (Jongin tries to stop comparing him to a hamster, but like Baekhyun looks like Dumbo, Minseok looks kind of like Hamtaro. A lot cuter than Dumbo, in his opinion). Jongin sips his milkshake a bit and continues to chew at the straw. He hasn’t started eating yet, but he can see Minseok think a bit.

“Is that why you want a job?”

“Partially.”

Again, the thinking face. While it lasts, Jongin takes a fry and begins to eats as well, finally starting the meal. 

“Maybe I can talk to some people and you could come work at my job. It’s IT related, but you wouldn’t have to do anything with computers. You would just have to handle the administrative work that comes with it.”

And all of a sudden, just like that, an opportunity lands in his lap and he takes a soft breath as he stares at Minseok. Kind, friendly Minseok, who will do his best to get him a job and potentially get in trouble with his boss for wanting to help him get a job. It makes him feel warm, really. Such genuine kindness is difficult to come by these days. Chewing at his lower lip, a habitual sign of nervousness, he nods his head. “I don’t even know how I would begin thanking you for such a thing. I would really like that, hyung. I would really do my best and make you proud. I won’t slack off.”

Minseok laughs quietly, shaking his head in a humble gesture, hands held up. “No, no. Please... I’'ll try to get you a job, but you don’t have to prove anything to me. Just do your best. We could use the help. Here, give me your phone number and we’ll keep in touch, okay?” The eldest of the two gives the unemployed of the two his phone and Jongin hurries to input his number. As if the other male would suddenly change his mind and such a chance would slip away from his eager fingers. He rings the number once. Now he has Minseok’s number too. The phone returns to its owner. 

The rest of the meal continues a lot more relaxed. (“Have you played Bloodborne?” “I wanted to but then I heard it’s like Dark Souls?” “Yeah, it’s a challenge. Pretty good though.” “Cool, I’ll give it a try.”) Though he has good news for today, he’ll keep this to himself. What if he speaks it out loud and that somehow jinxes it? He’s not going to risk it. Not today.

Jongin can’t stop smiling on his way home.

 

* * *

 

Only when he’s in his room again does he notice that the battery of his phone had been dead. Odd. Usually he was stuck to the damn thing the entire day. But today, he had been so busy, and had chatted and eaten with Minseok, and his mind had been off Chanyeol. Maybe this was his letting go. Maybe it was also a good thing of his phone dying and him having been busy. Otherwise he would have been like a desperate child, wanting attention constantly from someone who couldn’t give two shit-sticks about him. Life just doesn’t work like that. It isn’t favorable or exciting like that? Really, what had Jongin expected? A whirlwind romance starting from a text message to a wrong number? Or maybe even less than that? Had he expected a guy to be into guys to text him? His sexual awakening appointed to him by the hands of destiny? Now that he thought about it, it was quite silly.

With his phone on the charger, he took a shower.

When he returns there’s a text message waiting for him. He pulls the notification bar down and the unknown number he still hasn’t saved is staring back at him. 

Oh. 

_Oh._

Opening the text, he sees the timestamp. His heart sinks. His eyes scan over the message and he blinks his eyes wide open as he stares in disbelief. Jongin’s dramatic little rant about destiny and fate being treacherous things meant only to be in romance movies seems pointless now.  His mind is pulling a blank and he feels silly.

**[ Received |** **16:08 ]** You look pretty cute, princess.   
 **[ Received |** **16:08 ]** Though now I’m really hoping yours isn’t bigger than mine ㅋㅋㅋ   
 **[ Received |** **16:09 ]** Sorry for replying this late. My phone broke and I got it fixed. Didn’t miss me too much, did you?

Okay, so Jongin’s eyesight might not be the very best. He has that trait from his dad. But he’s still pretty sure Chanyeol is  _still_  flirting with him despite being aware of what he looks like. Despite being aware he’s a boy. Despite knowing he has a dick. It takes a moment to sink in, but when it does sink in, it sinks all the way in down to his gut, which bounces back like a trampoline and does several weird loops. He feels funny. A mix of excitement and joy at the same time, with maybe a hint of relief. An odd brew of  _should-definitely-not-feel-this-way-about-a-stranger_  and  _but-he's-_ ** _hot_**. 

He should reply. It’s close to seven o’clock now and it’s almost been three hours since Chanyeol had sent him those texts. (He’s still glad his phone died, though. Otherwise he would have replied immediately and maybe had seemed desperate after two days of silence on the other’s part.) He bites at his lip and chews at it. Sitting on his bed in just his underwear and a towel on top of his head, his hands are occupying themselves with his phone instead of getting dressed.

**[ Sent |** **19:02 ]** I don’t know, did I? Maybe, maybe not.    
 **[ Sent |** **19:03 ]** I was quite busy today, didn’t think of you at all, actually.   
 **[ Sent |** **19:03 ]**  My back hurts, now that I think about it. I should go to a masseuse. One that would give him a happy 

There’s an emotion most closely related to smugness, perhaps. He feels flirtatious in a sense. Maybe he even has the audacity to try and lure Chanyeol in this time. This is the most daring thing he’s done his entire life, except for that one time he was, like, nine and accidentally walked out of the store with a coloring book without paying and had become a thief. He only later realized when he was a teen that’d been wrong. But he’s been mostly good his entire life. A quiet child, an obedient boy. Chanyeol, a stranger he only knew by name and face, was dangerous in the sense that he was straying from what was morally “right” for the first time in his life. 

It was thrilling. 

Jongin wanted to get lost in the sensation.

**[ Received |** **19:05 ]** Yeah? You don’t need to hire someone, you know? My fingers are magic.

**[ Sent |** **19:06 ]** Who are your references? You should show me your resumé. 

**[**   **Received |** **19:06 ]**  Can’t give you references, you’ll have to go by my word. Let my fingers speak for themselves.

His cheeks felt hot again, and he laid on his bed instead of sitting on it. Biting at his lip and pulling his knees up some to press the soles of his feet against the bed and curl his toes in his sheets, his fingers replied again. Whenever he spoke to Chanyeol, he became small. As if holding a secret for himself. With a soft suck at his bottom lip, his eyes were aimed at the screen of his phone and he hummed into the silence of his bedroom.

**[ Sent |** **19:07 ]**  What services do you offer?

It felt bold to go on with this. Jongin felt  _naughty_. Had he seen himself behave this way, or had he heard himself think this way, it would have made him feel tremendously stupid--but he didn’t, and it made him feel seductive. Naïve and seductive at the same time. 

**[ Received |** **19:09 ]** Package 1: Massage with manual happy end.

It felt hot in his room. The single sentence text gave his imagination just enough to work with. He pictured it, as his eyes fell shut for a moment. He pictured handsome Chanyeol, with his muscles and his good-looking face, how his hands moved over Jongin’s tanned skin and massaged him. Touched his stomach, and rubbed his hips, caressed his thighs. He felt his hands move, he felt them wrap around his cock. His breath left him in a gasp, his brows forming a frown. He imagined, how Chanyeol would ask him if it felt nice. He saw, he felt a hand reach between his thighs, slickened from the massage oil, brushing between his parted legs against his--

Jongin gasped and opened his eyes. He didn’t have to look down to know how hard he’d gotten from just imagining such a thing. His thighs quivered and he pressed them together. Quietly catching his breath, the excitement pumping adrenaline through his veins in a burst of energy he couldn’t control, he stared at the ceiling. Swallowing away the lump in his throat, his eyes found his phone again.

**[ Received |** **19:10 ]** Package 2: Massage with oral happy end.

His lips pressed together and he stifled a soft groan at the thought of a warm and wet mouth on his throbbing length. Though he tried not to touch himself, it was difficult to resist. Lips stretched around the girth, soft humming while sucking him off... The thought of having a finger pressed inside of him, working him open slowly. It all made him feel a little dizzy. His hand curled around his phone, he pressed his knuckles against his lips, his other hand sliding beneath his boxer briefs to curl around his aching length. He began to stroke himself just lightly, almost teasing himself to want more. Managing to silence a whine by keeping his lips pressed against the back of his fingers, his hips rolled up into the ring of his fingers. His toes curled and relaxed repeatedly, almost kneading the sheets they tangled up in and let go of. 

In the silence of his room he whispered, like a dirty secret, the name of a stranger who had made him feel this way. His voice accentuated by a strained moan. “Chanyeol..”

**[ Received |** **19:11 ]** Package 3: Massage with genital happy end. 

Lying naked on the massage table, his legs spread for the man’s head and fingers, he saw him pull back with a confident smile on his face. His hands pulled back and they moved down to unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling out his erect cock. Jongin stared at it, swallowed at the sight of it. Strong arms circled beneath his thighs and pulled him closer to the edge of the table, one of them pulling back to grab at the erect big cock of the masseur. The head was guided between his legs, pressed right up against his entrance. Chanyeol groaned beneath his breath, dark eyes staring down at Jongin. “Going to fuck your little cunt.”

Jongin’s jaw dropped and his back arched as he moaned, desperately biting at his lip to keep quiet. He felt how he spilled over his hand and soiled his briefs, his legs shaking from his abrupt orgasm. His forearm pressed against his mouth and he dropped his phone on his bed, his hips twitching as they still tried to prolong his climax by bucking up into his hand. Though he knew he was supposed to stay quiet, he couldn’t help the sounds of pleasure that kept escaping him. When he managed to keep them quiet, his breaths were short and hurried, trying to get himself to calm down. 

Picturing a stranger fucking him. Masturbating to it. Getting off to it in a such an intense way it still left him shuddering minutes after. All of it felt somewhat surreal. 

Exhausted, and slightly embarrassed for what he had done, he grabbed a few tissues from his trusted tissue box (masturbating is normal, doing so to a stranger is the weird part about it) and wiped his hand clean. Tossing the dirtied paper away towards the general direction of his trash bin, he crawled beneath his sheets and dropped the towel on his head aside. 

Though he wanted to talk to Chanyeol, but the pleasant post orgasmic buzz in his stomach reminded him that he was too ashamed to do so right now. As if he couldn’t face him even through text. Tugging the sheets over his shoulders, he turned around and decided to sleep. It was barely past seven, but perhaps a nap could help him forget about his sinful act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chin stroking emoji* Interesting. **[Twitter](https://twitter.com/anticholia)**.


	4. Answering Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol struggles with paperwork.

The first time the stress ball gets thrown across the room, it hits Jinki on the head and Chanyeol gets cursed at. In return, he just grins brightly as if he had done nothing wrong. The second time it gets thrown across the room, it gets caught by Taemin, but only because he'd sacrificed his stability, jumping from his desk to dive at it like a goalkeeper. He falls over, crashes into the ground and yells that he caught it. Chanyeol laughs so hard he gets tears in his eyes. The third time the ball gets thrown across the room is when the coding is not cooperating with him and no one is there to catch it. Unlike the moments that are stress-free, at that time the use of the stressball functions as it is supposed to. Working in ICT is frustrating. Especially when things aren't going the way you want them to. 

Chanyeol is fortunate to work in a close-knit team. 

He likes his job. He likes the challenges that face him. He likes the slower days at work when he has nothing to do. He likes the car the company leases for him. He likes bothering his colleagues. He likes going out for company outings. He likes working in the team. And that's also what he likes the best. The team. Needless to say, Chanyeol is fortunate. Few people have the privilege of enjoying their job as much as he does. Even less have the privilege of having great colleagues, like he does. 

Speaking of great colleagues, Chanyeol rises to his feet and grins from ear to ear when his favorite one—besides Jinki, that is—walks through the door. Arms spread wide, he wraps them around a smaller frame (okay, maybe shorter is a better description, the dude is pretty buff for his stature) and squeezes tight in a hug that is too personal on any other regular workplace. But not this one. 

"Minseok!" He exclaims out loud, squeezing the living breath out of the man in his tight hug. The repeated pats on his back begin to feel less like a greeting and more like a warning that the hug-assault victim is running out of air in his lungs. He takes the warning and grins so widely, Minseok squints his eyes and grunts as if he were staring at the sun. The kind of sun on a day too hot and too annoying and too  _shiny_  to enjoy. The kind of sun you wish clouds were in the sky to block its rays. "Good morning, Chanyeol." The reply follows after a grateful breath delivered to his begging-for-oxygen lungs. 

“How’ve you been? I’ve missed you so much during the twenty-four hours I haven’t seen you!”

“Did you miss me that much!”

“Of course!”

“Did you miss me enough to finish up that report on the Viva Polo file?”

“Okay, let’s not get  _crazy_ \--”

Minseok grunts and rolls his eyes, but despite his moment of annoyance, he slaps Chanyeol on the shoulder (Chanyeol jolts forward from the impact—Minseok might not be the tallest, but the guy’s got heavy hands on him for sure). “Didn’t think so. But do I have good news for you. One that might help you work a bit more efficiently.” 

“What? Are you serious? … We’re finally getting a basketball hoop in the elevator?”

“What?  _NO._  God, Chanyeol.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve been begging for weeks now. HR laughed at me. But it makes sense. Think about it. There’s nothing to do while you wait in the elevator to go up, so it’s best to have some fun while you go--”

“Shut up, Chanyeol.”

“--up, so  _really_ —Aw, that was harsh, hyung.”

“We’re getting an assistant.”

This would be the perfect moment for a record scratching in any comedy show. Chanyeol can hear it ring in his ears. An assistant? He stares at Minseok for a moment and leans back against his desk. An assistant. It’s difficult not to picture a big breasted young woman with the top buttons of her blouse loosened giving him a perfect view of her cleavage, but that’s mainly because he really likes porn and porn just so happens to have similar plots to his little fantasy image. But then again, this is not a cheesy office porn, this is reality. He should take down the enthusiasm a notch. Only a notch. His lips form into a smile and he nods thoughtfully.

“So, you convinced the big suit to spend some money to do the paperwork no one else wants to do?”

“Yes. We got the go-ahead just now.”

“Right, right.”

“I’m going to need you to show the newbie around, okay? Taemin would eat him alive. We have a couple of candidates lined up but it's your duty to get them settled in.”

The comment causes a very graphic, National Geographic type of scenario in his head of Taemin going downtown on the assistant like a crocodile he has to (physically) shake out of his head. 

“What? You don’t want to?”

“No! I want to! I want to. I’ll show the newbie. Just hand her over to me.”

There’s going to be a shit eating grin on his face the entire day. As far as Chanyeol has been told, the candidates to be interviewed for the position will have to undergo said interview throughout the week. After that, he can spend his time eyeing office eye candy all he wants. He doesn’t even flinch when Taemin grabs his homemade (awesome, even if he says so himself) sandwich for himself and shoves it in his mouth much like the gruesome crocodile scenario Chanyeol had pictured before. 

Truly gruesome to behold.

 

* * *

 

After work drinks are pretty common. Especially when Chanyeol has completed a file just on time for the finance department to include the cost of their work into their billing sent to the Viva Polo group. It’s a large firm, quite popular in their chain of restaurants and cafés, but their system is outdated, and filing the paperwork to get a team to update their soft- and hardware takes a bit of time. It’s the second phase of their work. Chanyeol is usually good with numbers, but the moment any sort of currency symbol stands in front of it, his brain just turns off. Economics, finance, all of it is boring. Money is boring. 

Computers are not.

The rest of the Vivi group agrees. Their talks usually tend to stick to computer talk. But when the soju sets in their dynamic tend to change and Taemin starts singing along to some Japanese virtual idol song. Booze makes Taemin louder,  Minseok rather wordy, Jinki touchy, and it makes Chanyeol incredibly, _incredibly_  horny. There have been times he’s attempted to kiss Minseok’s neck or even tried to score a number or two from a waiter or waitress. Whoever, really. He inhales the smell of barbecued meat deeply and puts his glass down (or rather, smacks it down against the wooden surface). His hand grabs about in his pocket and he fishes out his phone. 

Watching porn would help.

During a dinner.

Why not? 

(It’s not like anyone would mind, really. It’s not as if they weren’t drunk out of their minds. Lewder things have been done before. Courtesy of their finance manager Heechul, during a drunk bar mid-refacilitating to the nearest bar after having already visited two.)

He taps, and he taps again, his eyes squinting. That is not his VPN app. That is also not a video either. He has, in fact, tapped on a picture. Saved in his gallery. He squints his eyes. Brown eyes, dark brunet hair.

It’s Princess. 

His thus far unnamed fortunate texting incident. 

He has looked several times at the picture, but he’s never really paid attention to it. The thing is, he has noticed how pretty he is. Full lips, pretty brown eyes, soft skin. Soft locks of hair covering his forehead. But this is the first time he actually  _thinks_  about it. He thinks about what that pretty face would look like contorted into pleasure, as Chanyeol thrusts inside of him again and again, pins him against the wall and fucks him so hard he feels the pretty boy’s legs around him quake from the pleasure. He imagines what that voice would sound like coming from those deliciously plush lips, how they would beg for more and call Chanyeol’s name--

“Chanyeol! Stop touching your  ** _dick_** _!_ ”

“My bad!” He laughs, pulling his hand away from the bulge formed in his pants. Mentioned dick is hard, and it hurts a bit in the constraints of his pants, so he shifts in his seat. Rolling his neck back, he grunts and slams his hand on the table. “I’m goin’ home.” A bit unstable on his feet, he wobbles and shoves his phone in the pocket of his jacket and wipes his hand over his face to try to straighten his drunken haze. 

As he walks away from the table, he hears Taemin yell “goodbye, wiener stroker!”. With a loud snort, he rubs both hands over his face and tries to push the door open and with a nudge of his shoulder. The tab is on the company. He can just leave. Now to walk back home. Somehow. Maybe. He grabs his phone again and inhales deeply. The cool night air fills his lungs through his nostrils and he groans deeply as he tries to keep himself up on his feet and tries to decipher his phone at the same time. 

His screen is blurry now, but he manages swipe and tap until he somehow gets a notification that his taxi ride has been confirmed will be by his location in five minutes. 

Most of the taxi ride he spends staring at the same picture he had done the same to at the restaurant, and when he arrives home and his head hits the pillow, his hand fits in his pants and he strokes his erect cock until he grunts the nickname “Princess” beneath his breath and spills into his hand. 

Grabbing tissues and wiping himself clean, he knocks out five seconds later into an alcohol induced sleep that is mostly dreamless, yet oddly erotic.    
   
(He can almost swear he smells rose scented fabric softener throughout the night. And he can almost feel a pair of lips press against his collarbone. A warmth near his own body. As if someone were next to him.    
   
He wakes up with a warmth in his gut that doesn’t have much to do with his morning wood.)

 

* * *

 

Commuting to work is difficult when he can’t drive. His hangover is bad, but he doesn’t feel sick. There’s just a consistent headache and his eyes feel terribly dry. When he’s sitting behind his desk after taking a taxi, he grunts at Minseok--who is hangover immune. It's the worst.--when he’s greeted with a bright smile and turns to his computer. Was his computer screen always this bright? Was it painful to his eyes? Coughing, he grabs at the bottom of his screen and presses at buttons to control the menu until the brightness isn’t burning his corneas to a bacon-like crisp. When the brightness is set to a setting that is dim enough for him to tolerate the light coming from his screen, he blinks his eyes open and sniffs, beginning to log in to get to work. 

Time to get to work on the Lionheart file. Time to finish it. Self-torture by staring at a screen with a heavy hangover is enough motivation to get it all over with and shut the file once and for all. Lionheart is a small chain of pc cafés that has to upgrade their entire system, but before Chanyeol can set out to work on actually going to them he has to handle the administrative file. Which he soon will not have to do. Because someone else will do it for him. An assistant. Today the interview is supposed to happen and they are getting their assistant. Chanyeol’s assistant to be precise, since he isn’t planning on sharing the person with anyone. Who would need an assistant anyway? Anyone beside him? No one, that’s who. He needs one. He needs help with his paperwork, and he is the one with the most paperwork still left to do (not because he has been lazy at all, just because he has other things to do that require more immediate attention—like Roblox). 

A smack on the head with a rolled-up pile of papers snaps him out of his fantasies about his soon to be assistant. 

Zhou Mi looks at him with a frown on his face, which is odd for Zhou Mi in particular because usually he’s smiling. So Chanyeol simply grunts and takes the message as an urgent “get to work” and begins to type up the report of the repeated static screen problem and outdated systems of Lionheart's computers. It isn’t a lot of work. Just annoying and tedious. Who he’d spoken to, what the problem was, when the problem first occurred, under what circumstances it appears to happen, what actions have already been taken, what the cost will be of the reparation and the estimate amount of hours likely to be spent on the case. In addition, the file has to be kept open and maintained throughout reparation in case there is something worthy to note. Why they didn’t have an assistant from the beginning is a wonder to Chanyeol. He’s good at what he does—good with computers—but typing words for the sake of bureaucracy is not exactly what he’s good at. 

After about an hour, he slaps his hand on the table, stands up and stretches. “DONE!” Taemin doesn’t even look up as he claps. He’s the only one who’s responding. Finishing paperwork is not a very impressive feat (though Chanyeol vehemently disagrees). He hears a giggle and turns his head in an instant. Minseok is standing next to a female with long legs, long hair and a beautiful face. His hand gestured politely towards the exit.  _Oh._ He stands with his mouth agape as he stares at her, and then looks at Minseok. Slowly, his arms come down and he coughs. 

“This way, miss. Sorry about that. If you do get selected, it is likely this sort of stuff will happen more often, but  _please_  ignore it if you can.” 

Their voices are slowly becoming quieter as they walk towards the exit and Chanyeol waits anxiously for Minseok to deliver the news. When the man returns, he spots the look of pure anticipatory excitement and begins talking immediately. “Her name is Qian. She’s a friend of Zhou Mi’s. She does meet most of our requirements but the language part might be a bit of a problem. Grammatical issues aren’t that big of an issue within the company itself, but if we have to send the reports to external relations, it might damage our reputation. Yes, she’s single--” He holds a hand up when Chanyeol is about to intervene, “no, she didn’t tell me because she’s interested in me. It came up when we discussed family. There are two more candidates I will meet later today and you will see our new recruit by the end of the week.” 

Chanyeol grins from ear to ear and hopes that Qian will be hired. When he sees Zhou Mi near the coffee machine, he chats brightly with him about his (very attractive, and very single) friend Qian.  

The rest of his work day, he actually manages to do some work. Even negotiates with Minseok that he could check all of Qian’s work if it were necessary. His colleague rolls his eyes and snorts, mumbling something about counter-productivity and “get a girlfriend” or something Chanyeol has already ignored. 

 

* * *

 

The end of the week can’t come soon enough and Chanyeol doesn’t manage to gauge Qian’s chances because he doesn’t manage to sneak a peek at the remaining two candidates. When midday Friday arrives, he’s bouncing on his feet when everyone is called to the conference room. There are weekly and sometimes biweekly meetings in review of how the past period has gone and what feedback their clients have given them. But this time, there will be an announcement, and he takes the seat closest to Minseok’s. Wide grin plastered over his excited face. It’s happening.

“Chanyeol has processed the administrative part of his Viva Polo and Lionheart cases, which means he can pick a partner and visit the businesses to see if we can fix the issue on site soon.” Silence, but in Chanyeol’s humble opinion there should have been applause and an uproar of people volunteering to be his partner. “Zhou Mi has met with our largest client Happy Virus, we’ve reached all our goals this month and they are extremely pleased with the progress. Keep it up, guys.” Jinki gives Taemin a pleased slap on the shoulder only to have the younger rub at his shoulder. “As all of you know, there have been interviews this past week, as we are acquiring an assistant within our team--” It’s happening. “--And after careful consideration with the team leaders we have decided on one candidate--”  _It’s happening._  “Who you’ll meet in about ten minutes, because they’re coming here to pick up their card key for the building.”  ** _Oh._**  

“That’s all for today, short meeting but nothing went wrong thus far, besides Heechul throwing up again--” “Fuck you, Minseok. I had a hangover.” “So well done! And try to say hi to our new teammate, yeah? Dismissed!” 

When the rowdiness arises from everyone standing up and shuffling about, Chanyeol makes his way to the kitchen. He’s going to become antsy if he thinks too much about the candidate-possibly-Qian-hopefully-Qian-she's-single-and-has-nice-legs. He puts water in a pot and proceeds to cook easy to make ramen, one of his favorites on the workplace. Adding in paprika, egg and onion to his jjajangmyeon sauce covered noodles, he stirs everything when it’s done in a bowl and walks over to his desk. 

Well, he would. 

But he presses his hot and yummy meal into someone’s chest.

“Fuck, sorry, I--” 

When he looks up, he comes face to face with full lips, pretty brown eyes, soft skin; soft locks of hair covering a forehead.

“ _Princess_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. I was struggling with my writing and switching perspectives did not really help. I hope it's somewhat enjoyable. Thank you @YeolLuvv61, @61x88_ and @pcy301namjaa on Twitter for your kind messages. [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AntiCholia).


	5. Dial Tone

On the day of his big interview, one made possible with the help of Minseok, Jongin has dressed as nicely as possible. He picks the suit his mother had made suited for him in case of such situations. Despite having her son study in humanities and job opportunities not exactly being ideal in Korea with such a degree, she had still been tremendously proud of him and wanted to wish him well in his future road on getting a job. And Mama Kim certainly had taste. With a son that looked tall and handsome enough to be a model (but unfortunately was a bit camera shy), she had enough to play dress up with—much to Jongin’s dismay. But this time it paid off. He feels confident in the suit, has spent time on his hair and had even followed a skincare routine. As Minseok had welcomed him inside, he had offered him a cup of coffee and sat down with him once he’d prepared Jongin a cappuccino and closed the door of the conference room behind him. Once they both sat, Minseok looked at Jongin with a smile, and even though Jongin felt nerves creeping up, he smiled comfortably in return.

At least Minseok’s presence was somehow soothing to him. 

The man was kind and reassuring in everything he did. Radiated a sort of comfort Jongin felt himself drawn to. It was nice to feel like that once in a while. Usually he felt cornered during conversations like these. Even with people he knew. But he liked Minseok. Even if the man was about to interview him at the moment. 

“So... Do you think you are qualified for the position?” 

Jongin laughed at the question. It felt sort of silly taking a job interview from someone he somewhat knew. He licked over his lips and suckled on the lower one for a second. “I am.” He began. His confidence returned a bit. Minseok seemed pleased with the answer. The smile on his face is accompanied by the quirk of one of his brows. He sipped a bit at the coffee he had been offered (with milk and sugar of course, bitter coffee is gross and anyone who disagrees is a brute in Jongin’s opinion), and continues on. “According to the information I received I should be perfect for the job. It’s a supportive role in the business isn’t it? Alleviating the pressure from my colleagues who could be having a more client interactive function instead of dealing with administrative duties. I am also willing to do more than that. I understand inputting data is what is required as my main task but I am optimistic that I can work efficiently enough to have spare time to use to assist my colleagues in alternative ways.” 

Jongin licks over his lips and spots Minseok writing down a few things. The interviewer ends his sentence with a tap of his pan against the paper. A dot. Period. Conclusion. “How good are you with English, Jongin?” The question catches him off guard a bit, but Jongin smiles afterwards. “I excel in it. I studied English as my major. Language, culture and literature. If I’m required to speak to someone in English I am most confident I can represent the company with prestige.” He sucks on his lower lip for a second after finishing the question. He spots Minseok having his pen flow in a sloppy V across the paper. He assumes it’s a check mark for his lingual ability. He can hear the clock ticking behind him, and he wonders how much time has passed. Though he managed to stay somewhat composed, he feels the need to wring his hands. And his lip biting habit is starting to take flight. A sign that he is becoming nervous. 

Minseok puts his pen down and leans back in his seat. His legs cross and his hands combine to press against his abdomen. Jongin watches silently, unmoving in his own seat, wondering what the man is thinking. “Listen, Jongin.” Mentioned male tilts his head up as his eyebrows raise, a sign he is listening. “I have a clear preference for you. I mean, you are Junmyeon’s brother and by the sounds of it I think you could pick up this job very easily. I trust you will do well. This is more of a formality than anything else. I trust you will be able to start as soon as possible.” Jongin opens his mouth, but closes it again when Minseok continues after a moment. “I’m excited to have you here with us, Jongin.” To which Jongin can only smile. Working with Minseok doesn’t sound so bad.

He’s told that a couple more candidates will be interviewed, but he doesn’t have to worry about it (of course he will), as long as he doesn’t change his mind (of course he won’t) he will hear the news in a few days. When he leaves, he bumps against someone in the elevator. A face he’d seen looking at him in a rotten manner before. “Sehun?” Sehun barely looks up.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Who do you think owns Vivi?” 

Jongin falls silent for a moment. Sehun is far too young to be a CEO, isn’t he? He opens his mouth, but before he can ask anything, the answer is smacked in his face like Sehun had to answer that question one too many times in the past already.

“It’s just a project to show my dad I can succeed in his business when he retires.” 

Vague, somewhat, but clear enough for Jongin to understand that Sehun probably is loaded with money. A chaebol baby? Probably. Leave it to his brother to have won the attention of someone that prestigious and wealthy. He raises a hand and muffles a giggle behind his hand. 

Sehun doesn’t even seem to mind. When the elevator doors open and they walk out, he’s left with a pass-on message to his brother.

“Tell Junmyeon I’m looking forward to Saturday.” 

Jongin wishes he didn’t feel as uncomfortable as he did. But the smirk on Sehun’s face makes it sound like he just told Jongin about Junmyeon’s dick-down-date he shouldn’t be knowing about. The mental picture is scarring and he tries to control his face to not look completely horrified. He just nods a little.

When he comes home, he does tell Junmyeon the message Sehun sent him. He’d expected his brother to be embarrassed, or anything of that sort of nature, but all his brother does is nod a bit. However, when he leaves for his room, he does hear Junmyeon on his phone.

“ _Oh_ _Sehun_ _._ ” 

 

* * *

 

His phone rings on Thursday.

“Hello?” 

“Jongin? It’s Minseok.” 

“Oh, hello! I apologize, I don’t have your number saved, I think.” 

“You can save it. I’m calling about that position?” 

“Yes?” 

“I don’t know what you did, Jongin, I really don’t understand.” 

“Excuse me? What do you mean?” 

“You have the job, like I said I tried to put in a good word for you, but...” 

“But...?” 

“The CEO didn’t let anyone really speak. He just dismissed the other candidates and said you’re hired.” 

Jongin falls quiet for a moment. The thought of his brother’s and Sehun’s dick appointment creeps back in his brain and he feels a little sick. He shakes his head and clears his throat. 

“I ran into the CEO in the elevator. It’s Sehun, right? We met in the elevator and had a small chat but...” 

“Must have been quite the chat. Anyway, you’re hired. You can come pick your office card up tomorrow. We’ll immediately register you into the system as well so you can have your own account to work in.” 

“All right.” He still feels a bit confused.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow.” 

 

* * *

In the history of bad first days at work, none could probably beat Jongin’s. His white shirt is stained with a hot liquid (that will leave a stain, what is he supposed to do?) and when he looks up to see who the man at fault is his brain freezes to the point, he can no longer feel the burn of the coffee that’s soaked his shirt. It was supposed to be his first day at work.

He’s standing face to face with his texting incident. The man whose picture he’d masturbated to and had been so embarrassed about he’d neglected the man for a while. The man who doesn’t know his name. His mouth opens and closes like fish gasping for air. He’s staring. He knows that much. His eyeballs burn from drying out from having his eyes open for so long and his throat feels dry. 

“ _Princess?_ ” 

He hopes he wakes up. That this is all a bad dream and that he isn’t really experiencing this, but the buzz in his brain feels more than real and when panic sets in, he stumbles over his words as he tries to brush past the man.

“E-Excuse me, I have to... staple my desk--” 

_Staple his desk? Really?_  How much embarrassment can one person take in one day? His face feels like it’s on fire, and his heart is beating so fast it’s abuse to his ribcage. Trying to get rid of someone in an area you aren’t familiar with yet isn’t the smartest thing to do either. He can hear Chanyeol say something, but he can’t distinguish what it is precisely. Still, his voyage to  _anywhere-but-here_ is short lived as he bumps face first against a door that won’t open.

Shit.

He feels his face burn from embarrassment and sin revolving his former anonymous wank material now colleague. The universe must be punishing him.

A hand on his shoulder has him shriek in a note too high.

“Whoa, calm down. It’s just me.” He hears a chuckle and turns around with a tomato for a face to come face to face with the man he’d ran away from. “Wha--” He begins, but before he can finish his sentence, the door that wouldn’t budge before opens and he’s suddenly slammed against the surface on the other side. Inside the office. Whose office? Chanyeol’s? Had he tried to flee from Chanyeol to Chanyeol’s office? (If he could cry, he would.)

The man is so close, Jongin doesn’t feel like he has any space to breathe. His eyes feel like closing, and he can feel the man’s breath hitting his face. It faintly smells of chocolate. He swallows thickly and avoids the gaze set on him. 

“What’s your name, Princess?” He’s asked, yet he fails to answer the simple question. His lips quiver from his overactive nerves rattling his brain to the point his capability to think even in the simplest of ways begins to cease.

“ ** _Jongin_**!” 

Outside of the door, his name is called and Jongin pushes the man away and opens the door, slamming it shut behind him. Minseok is calling him. “H-Here!” He replies, nearly tripping over his own feet. 

“There you are. Come on, your account has been set up, I’ll show you the basics.” 

The steady hand on Jongin’s lower back causes him to relax a little. But he feels trapped. Eventually he’ll have to come face to face with none other than Chanyeol, but at least he has some time to get over the initial shock now. Maybe if he sticks to Minseok long enough, he might spare him and be with him more often than not. 

He hopes.

In vain. 

His mind is barely following along as he’s shown the user interface the company works with. He sees the different tabs, and he sees the different methods of input, but it isn’t really working. His mind is rattled with the presence of Chanyeol, and how that same man knows his name now. They’re  _colleagues_ , for God’s sake. He feels cornered and he rethinks his position at the job. He could always run away. (Even though his mom had been so proud of him. She’d baked him a cake. Proud of her son for finally starting a job at a company.) Even though his brains feel heavy and loaded, he still nods and smiles when Minseok asks if he understands how it works. He doesn’t. He feels bad when Minseok pats his shoulder and tells him he’s proud.

“Chanyeol will overlook your progress and if you have any question, you should just ask him.” 

He could just sink into the floor. The only sort of comfort he has in his predicament is that he’s being paid to suffer (like everyone who ever has a job). 

When Jongin is sent home early with an account and an entrance pass, he makes sure to avoid any form of tall and overly enthusiastic. 

When Monday comes, he will officially have to face Chanyeol and somehow defuse the situation.

Somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please vote in [this poll](https://twitter.com/AntiCholia/status/1054524484131151872), thank you. I apologise this chapter is a bit shorter. ｍ（＿　＿；；ｍ


End file.
